Character Sketch #7

 

She wanders aimlessly, munching on a chocolate chip cookie. A handbag swings from each forearm, one brown, the other hot pink. The fashion she wears is miles away from the freshly purchased pair of Doc Martens she carries; are they a gift or a midlife crisis?

Her pink hair has been growing out for weeks; the dark roots don’t lie. She texts as she rides the panda scooter with her son. He imagines picking up speed, the wind blowing in his hair, and he laughs aloud. 

She’s here nearly every day, pushing the stroller with two golden-haired children. She has a noticeable limp in her right leg, and she has facial piercings. I know people judge her for them. Ears, eyebrows, nose, lips–all decorated with plain stainless barbells and captive bead rings. Her children are always joyful and well-behaved; perhaps the judgers should mind their own business. 

She strides rapidly in her BDUs, cover in hand, not a hair out of place in her tidy bun–except for a single escaping tuft meekly poking out from the side. But it’s been a long day. 

Red glasses. Red watch. School uniform. Too young to drive, by far, but at the mall alone; neither parents nor friends in attendance. He reseats his red glasses and swings his arms without restraint. 

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